Porcelain Reflections
by Nightly Halo
Summary: AU oneshot SasuNaru. He's pale and like a statue of marble, his onyx eyes boring into souls. He has blonde hair, and the bluest eyes of a saint, holding much more years then he owns. So how are they attracted to each other again? More inside


**Porcelain Reflections**

**_SasuNaru One-shot _**

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_**Disclaimer: **_I (sadly) do not own Naruto or Sasuke, or any of the characters in the show Naruto ...which sucks...but I_ do _own this story :D

**Summary:** Uh...this is kinda a warped version of Naruto. Anyways the italic are people whispering in the background...don't ask who's view it's from, it's just 3rd person I guess...-laughs- enjoy!

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_"Hey, hey - have you heard?"_

When he looks at something, his eyes doesn't meander away from it. He becomes entrance and everything else grows dark. When he focuses he truly focuses, and he forgets that the world revolves under his feet and existence. He'll forget those looks they give him... that people are looking at him with thirsty eyes.

That's just the way he likes it. He doesn't multi-task unless needed, but he is never slow. He'll get one thing done before the limit and off he'll go for another one. Just to occupy his gaze and thoughts. So he won't think about anything else but getting the work done. He's very handy, you know, that's why everyone loves and hates him.

_"That young man over... you know, the one that -- yes, him! -- the one that looks like a carving of chalk sitting with the rest of the yearbook club!"_

He balances everything he does. When they love him, he's compliant. When they hate him, he ignores. But it's not like he cares that much, right? He's always got his head down and he never notices the world unless you tap his shoulder. But even that, you're lucky enough that he'll notice the light, timid touch and look over his shoulder.

It's like... a doll, yes? A marionette, rather. Yet he'll move when he wants to, and it's he that controls the strings you pull.

_"That boy that looks like he's glowing in colors of white and black."_

Two long bangs would hide away unnecessary view and slightly sharp white nose would only point down at the object he gazes at. He has a firm look -- rather smug -- and his lips would never quirk up or down. They're always in a straight line and you wonder if he's stitched his cheek muscles to disable him from smiling. His eyes are intense, I tell you, when he isn't looking at anyone -- at people, I mean. He hardly does look up from whatever it is he's working on. He doesn't have a problem with school.

They say senior grads have it bad?

He's joined almost every club and sports there is, but that doesn't stop him from graduating high school like a bird's wings cutting through the wind. It's like... he's not human. No matter how human he may walk, talk, and move... he's still like a ceramic doll with warm flesh, blood, and bones.

_"See that pile of papers beside his desk? He did those in less than five hours! He isn't human!"_

And when he DOES look at you? Shit, prepare to glue your feet on the ground and grab hold on something. The world will suddenly stop and his gaze on you'll get you swaying down on your rear. It's that powerful?

Fuck yes

_"Everyone loves him. The girls, I mean."_

He doesn't smile. But he does smirk. That only tells you that his lips are quirk a little up and that's enough to tell you that he's smirking at you -- and that he's not looking at his work -- but at you. Which means he's seen your existence, even for a split moment. He knows you're standing right in front of him-- so now you can talk to him. Maybe even go on a date with him?

Besides... he hardly declines.

_"All the boys hate him, but they're too scared to show it in front of him."_

If you look closely, he doesn't like crowds. He isn't complaining, even though that makes people crowd around him more. But everyone backs away when he asks to be left alone. Nobody talks back at him, because he's asking you nicely. Nobody wants to piss him off.

He's looks a little cold-hearted sometimes -- err, all the time -- and his eyes look a little evil... though that doesn't stop the women. He's filthy rich but he isn't spoiled. He's got companies controlled by his hands but he's never been sued.

_"Every girl in the whole district wants him. He's even got the older women eyeing him."_

When he looks at something, he focuses on it. There's no stopping him until he gets it done. He ignores people because they distract him. As long as people can touch him, they don't mind.

He's never one to start talking first. He doesn't talk much, smile, yell, or look up. He's always looking down, or straight ahead, somewhere to his left or right, or out the window. He doesn't look up at the sky and everyone thinks he just doesn't like the sun since he barely gets out of the school on break and lunch.

_"But have you heard?"_

Although... there IS a catch, actually, when you want to get into an Uchiha's bubble.

_"They say that whoever sleeps with an Uchiha loses their soul -- their life, even."_

It's not that he sleeps with everyone because he doesn't decline. It's just that...

_"Everyone wants to sleep with him. But they're still scared."_

He'll fling you away from reality, and he'll jumble your hypothesis of what's fake or not. He'll regard you with a look that'll last half a second -- but it's enough to send you to Heaven or Hell. His existence only testifies the possibility of Perfection.

Does he ever get tired? Does he get fed up?

Everyone wants him, loves him, hates him, secretly wishes he was gone from the face of the earth. They want to bed him. They want to touch him. They don't care if they die.

_'Touch the Uchiha!'_

_"They say that whoever he sleeps with dies in a few days, or will have the worse luck. So far, five women died because of him. But he didn't kill them. They were the one who committed suicide a few days after."_

It's not like he wants you to be so enthralled by him. It annoys him, too. He just never shows it.

_"Everyone's been saying how it isn't true. The police have no evidence that he did it. All the women who died or disappeared never left any proof that he was to blame. Of course, I think it isn't true, either, don't you?"_

A walking sculpted marble of mantrap. Satin ebony hair, snow-white flesh, black eyes... is his blood truly pure red? There should be taints in them. He can't look this perfect.

_"That's why they call him the Reaper ... Uchiha Sasuke the Reaper of Death."_

He's a porcelain. A glowing white and black shadow of paradise. An aura of something good mingled with something evil. His voice are like strings. The moment they come out, he's got you completely compelled by him, and you can hardly get out... But it's not like you want to get out, right? You like him hypnotizing you, because it throws you completely off the realm of Reality. Maybe even into the realm of Death.

He doesn't fall in love. Yet girls care less.

_"He'll reap your soul with his beauty and hurl you into prognostication. And then, you 'die'... but, hey... nobody's complaining."_

_-_

It was that then, halfway through senior grad, a new student comes in. Nobody understands why someone came in at such a late time. He wasn't hated - nor was he loved.

Why?

First of all, he smiles a lot, the weirdo. He's pretty gullible, too, not to mention dense. He's as short as the girls, a damn midget. There are so many outside rumors about him, nobody wants to get involve. He's even got ugly marks marred on his cheeks, not to mention how buxom they are...

But, there it is.

Uchiha Sasuke has moved his nose a little and his cool black eyes starts to meander upwards. Then... he's looking at him.

When black eyes meet sky blue ones, suddenly the room doesn't glow black and white any more. Because blue and orange begins to blind him -- and he's got himself a new objective to focus at. The world has truly darkened. Everyone is left forgotten. The only thing left hanging like an exotic chocolate under his tongue is a name...

"Hello. I'm Uzumaki Naruto. Nice to meet you all."

Uzumaki Naruto.

Uzumaki.

Naruto.

The theory of Life and Death begins.


End file.
